


The guest

by EmmaSpencer



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, Action & Romance, Falling In Love, Family Trouble, Fighting, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Greg to the rescue, Guns, Happy Ending, M/M, Mycroft takes the lead, Mycroft's umbrella is very useful indeed, Sherlock is angry and a child, Young Mystrade, different first meeting, he is hot as hell while doing so, mentione of drug use, mycroft is a badass, purge night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:01:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27915694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaSpencer/pseuds/EmmaSpencer
Summary: It is the night of the Purge. Instead of staying home and safe Mycroft sets out to find his brother, who is out on the streets.While doing so he meets Greg Lestrade. The handsome, clever detective who can not say no to him.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes & Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes & Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Kudos: 35





	The guest

He screamed when bumping into someone, holding out an old umbrella in front of himself. 

“That won’t help you.” the other young man sighed relieved.

“Get away from me!” he tried to mask how terrified he was.

“What are you doing out tonight, pretty sure you are not purging with an umbrella.”

“What are  _ you _ doing out?” 

“Saw you from the window.” he pointed upwards. “Thought you needed a place to crash for the night.”

“No, I’m fine, thank you.”

“Posh boy like you in this area...you are as good as dead. Why not stay in your safe fortress?”

“I…” he looked around hearing yells.

“Come on in.” Greg grabbed his arm pulling him to the building. “Up we go.” he ran up the stairs, the young man trying to keep up with him. “In here.” he pushed him to a flat, closing numerous locks behind them, pushing furniture in front of the door as well. “There.” he sighed relieved. 

“I have to leave.” his eyes were darting around taking in his new surrounding.

“Why?”

“I must, my brother...he is out there!”

“Your brother? What is he doing out tonight?”

“He ran away from school, I’ve been looking for a week now. He must be out somewhere!”

“How old is he?”

“Only sixteen.”

“Name?”

“Sherlock Holmes.”

“Okay…” Greg reached for his phone, startling the young man who pointed the umbrella at him. “Only my phone.”

“You have a gun as well.”

“I also have a badge to go with it.” he showed it up. “Detective Sergeant Greg Lestrade, Scotland Yard. You?”

“Your hostage.” he huffed annoyed.

“No, my suspicious and reckless prince...you are the damsel in distress. May I make a call?” he nodded hesitantly. “Thanks, not that I need your permission.”

“Who are you calling?”

“Yard, seeing if he was booked in somewhere by any chance.”

“He wasn’t. I know that.”

“How?”

“I checked.”

“Okay. I check as well if you don’t mind.”

“Do as you wish.” he shrugged, lowering the umbrella. He carefully walked around, always keeping an eye on Greg, making sure he had a plan for every scenario that could go down in the flat. 

“Nothing, sorry.”

“I knew that already.” Greg rolled his eyes.

“So, what may I call you?” he put his phone away.

“Mycroft.” he gripped the umbrella tightly.

“Greg as I said, tea?”

“No, I do not want tea. I want to leave and find my brother!” he knocked on the floor with the umbrella.

“You won’t tonight.”

“He could get killed!”

“You as well.”

“I don’t care.” he stepped towards the door. “Please let me out.”

“No way.” Greg went for the key laying on the counter and Mycroft for his gun.

“You will.” Mycroft pointed it at him. 

“No darling.” he chuckled to mask his surprise and amazement. “I’m not an idiot, not leaving a loaded gun around.”

“Shit.” he cursed, dropping it. “I have to go out and find him.” he pleaded.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m not helping you.”

“I’ll do anything...” he stepped closer placing a hand on Greg’s belt on the front. “Anything…” he slid his hand down. 

“Not working my charming prince. Accept your fate, you are my guest for the night.”

“Do you have a bathroom?” he stepped away defeated.

“Through there, no window!” he called after him. 

  
  


Greg knocked on the bathroom door hearing a thud. “Hello, Mycroft, are you okay?” he tried the door when there was no answer. “Are you all right?” it opened. “Dear me!” he knelt next to the unconscious young man. “Mycroft!” he shook him, he opened his eyes finally. 

“Hello.” he whispered smiling at him. 

“Hey, anything hurting?”

“Just the bulletwound.”

“The what?” Greg looked him up and down properly, just now spotting the blood on his trousers. “Why not tell me?”

“Why would I?” he sat up leaning against the tub, rubbing his head.

“Don’t!” Greg took his hand. “You have a cut there as well.”

“It’ll hurt like hell.” his hand dropped.

“Probable. Let me see.” 

“Hands off me!” he pushed his hands away. 

“Few minutes ago you were really eager to get out of our clothes.” he winked. “I just want to clean the wound, promise. I just want to help.” he continued in a serious voice. 

“Okay…” he let him pull his trousers down.

“Went right through your thigh, high caliber.”

“It was a sniper rifle.”

“You were lucky.”

“We can say that,” he sighed.

“This will sting.” Greg came back with a bottle.

“What is that?”

“Vodka, want some before?”

“Might as well.” he took a big sip, spitting it out immediately. 

“How old are you?” Greg wiped the spit off his face. 

“I’m twenty-three, apologies.” he mumbled. 

“Not one to party and drink apparently.”

“No.” he coughed. 

“It will hurt.” Greg poured the vodka on the wound, Mycroft hissed in pain. 

“No kidding.” 

“I warned you, now some water...and…”

“Bandages, don’t try to sew it up.”

“Wasn’t planning to.”

“Burn it if it keeps bleeding.”

“What?”

“Heard me well.”

“I think it’ll be fine for now.”

“What time is it?” he avoided looking at his leg.

“Only ten, still a lot to get through.”

“I have to get out.” he stood up once Greg finished with the bandages. 

“No you don’t. You need rest now.”

“I…” Mycroft got up nevertheless trying out his injured leg. “I can’t stay.”

“I’m not moving the barricade.”

“Window will do just fine.”

“No ladder, third floor.”

“I’ll manage.” 

“They will kill you and then what? Then who will look for your brother, who will take him home?”

“Someone will.”

“Are you sure?”

“No.” he sighed sitting down.

“I make tea.” Mycroft just nodded. “Mind if I smoke? I don’t usually do but these nights...” Mycroft reached his hand out. “Here you go.”

“Nor do I,” Greg lit the cigarettes. “I really need to find him.”

“And you still expect me to help you.” he sighed.

“No, just let me leave.”

“Well, trouble is...I can’t just let you walk out and get yourself killed.”

“I’m stronger than you think. “

“Strength has nothing to do with it.”

“No.” 

“Here you go.” he placed a mug in front of him. “Anything in it?”

“No.” he mumbled, cradling the mug. 

“I have reasons to believe that you are thinking of ways to convince me to leave with you.” Greg spoke after carefully examining him.

“Maybe.” he sighed. “You are not responsible for me, you don’t have to feel guilty about letting me do as I wish.”

“I do however. You don’t throw out the rescued stray kitten to the cold night.”

“I’m not a kitten.”

“Of course you are.” he ran his finger over Mycroft’s hand. 

“Do you have siblings?”

“I have, two brothers, twins.”

“Are they safe?”

“Yes, the school takes them in for the night, they protect them.”

“Wouldn’t you do everything to find them? To protect them?”

“I...yes I would.”

“Please, let me leave.”

“Okay, fine we go but not without a plan, not without preparing first.”

“Thank you, I’ll repay your kindness.”

“Just don’t get me killed sweetheart.” Greg ran his fingers through his hair. “So, where is he in your opinion?”

“I tracked down the guy who sold him drugs to this area of town.”

“He is sixteen?”

“Yes.”

“Doing drugs?”

“Yes.” he sighed, his shoulders dropping. “You have to believe that I try my best, I really do but...it’s easier for him this way.”

“Easier?”

“Yes, easier not to remember.”

“Not remember what?”

“Later.”

“So the dealer is around here.”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“I have no idea.”

“That helps.” Greg grunted.

“You are the police, you should know where dealers do their business.”

“Wherever they want.” Greg rolled his eyes. “This will be rather hard, it would be under normal circumstances but tonight…” he shook his head. 

“I have to do my best.”

“I know, I know.” he mumbled. “Let me make a few calls. Painkillers?”

“Many; please and thank you.”

  
  


“So, according to my source…” Greg came back to the kitchen after many calls.

“Your source is reliable?”

“Well...do you have any better lead?”

“No.” he got up collecting his umbrella.

“Then we investigate what we have.” he shrugged, “Shall we?”

“Yes. Let’s go.”

“All righty. But first, I need you to promise to communicate, that is key out there.”

“I promise.”

“Ready?”

“Ready, yes.”

“Then,” Greg pushed the door open. ”You promise that you don’t know more than a name?”

“That is all I could find out, yes.”

“Okay.”

“No need to blame me for it.”

“I’m not…”

“Not out loud. You treat me like a newbie on your team who just stumbled upon an insignificant lead or detail.”

“No, no...we treat ducklings…” he cleared his throat. “Newcomers with respect.”

“Yeah, like they did at my job.”

“When did you start working?”

“I was eighteen.”

“So...wait a sec...” he stopped.

“I’m clever.”

“Good for you, then figure a way out of here.” he hissed pointing at the crowd with weapons in the distance.

“Upstairs.”

“Hmmm?”

“We go through the roofs.”

“Snipers?”

“Not around here, no.” he mumbled after looking around.

“How about underground?”

“Are you scared of heights?”

“No.” he whispered.

“It’ll be fine, trust me.” Mycroft took his hand, noting the slight tremble and the sweat covering it.

“If you say so.” he sighed. “Cover me.” he handed a gun to Mycroft while he opened the front door.

“From where do you have two?”

“You don’t need to know everything.” Greg checked out the corridor. “Now, you lead I cover our back.” Mycroft nodded climbing the stairs of the eerily quiet house.

“I have a bad feeling about this.” Greg mumbled. 

“This housing complex was a target tonight.”

“Target?”

“Yes.”

“You mean…” Greg stumbled over a body. 

“Easy way to get rid of unwanted personnel and keep their hands clean.”

“This is sick.”

“It is.” they finally reached the roof.

“How do you know all of this?”

“I’m a nobody in their eyes, so they don’t fear talking around me. I listen to every small detail and put it together.”

“Where do you work?”

“White hall, sometimes.”

“Oh, I see and other times?”

“Now, we jump.” he ignored Greg.

“Jump?” Greg eyed the ledge with worry.

“Yes, it is pretty close.” he stepped up. Greg looked at him, tall, well built, still in tailored suit, legs for miles...and then he jumped. Greg ran to see where he landed. 

“Hurry up.” Mycroft waved at him. 

“Okay.” he took a deep breath. “Okay…” he ran his fingers through his hair nervously. “Let’s do this.” he jumped with a yelp. 

“Why do you need to scream!” he grunted scanning the windows and rooftops. 

“I’m terrified, thank you for your concern.” Greg panted. “Now what?”

“Next one.” by the time Mycroft deemed it safe to enter the streets again Greg got used to heights.

“Wasn’t that bad.” Greg smiled at him.

“Glad.” he mumbled. “My ears can’t say the same however.”

“Hey…”

“We shouldn’t stall here.”

“You show the way then.”

“Me?”

“You, yes.” Mycroft looked around the corner. 

“When I say now, we run...now!” Greg hesitated a second too long, when he left their cover shots were fired immediately.

“I said now!” Mycroft yelled at Greg pointing the gun at the window where the shots came from. “Coward, hunting from the safety of their home.” he fired at them. “Bloody gun.” he grunted firing again, this time he hit the gunman. He grabbed the terrified Greg and pulled him behind garbage cans. 

“I said now! What did you not understand?”

“Sorry, I wasn’t ready.”

“You have a decision to make, either you give the command to me or you lead. But if I’m in charge you do as I say, when I do!” Greg was gripping his coat, his heart racing, unable to form sentences.

“You…” he gasped. 

“Okay then.” Mycroft pulled him up. “Let’s leave.” 

“The dealer…”

“His building!” Mycroft pointed at it. 

“How?” Greg still couldn’t talk in full sentences. 

“Your source said where he sells, it was easy to work it out from there.”

“Not going to ask how.” he mumbled.

“Okay.” Mycroft held his hand and pulled Greg behind him, checking if it was safe to move.

“Why not drop the umbrella, isn’t it just dead weight?” Greg peaked over his shoulder.

“If I had time I could have used it, it has way better aim...or I’m just more used to it than your gun.”

“It is an umbrella.”

“And a sword and a gun.” 

“Is it?” he stepped forwards, Mycroft pushed Greg back against the wall, pushing himself against him. “Shhh.” he placed a finger on Greg’s lips. “Not a word.” the group was getting closer and closer.

“You smell really nice, you know.”

“Hush!”

“Isn’t this suit constricting you? I should have dressed better myself...” Greg’s heart was racing, his whole body shaking.

“Shut up.” Mycroft hissed.

“You are blushing.” Greg kept whispering. Mycroft kissed him to make Greg shut up. “Wow.” Greg panted when they parted. “Wow…” he mumbled again.

“Let’s go.” Mycroft ignored his comment. 

“Whatever you say darling.” Greg cleared his throat.

“Gun at hand and ready!”

“It is.”

“Quickly.” Mycroft started to run pulling Greg behind.

“Your leg, doesn’t it hurt?” Greg asked once they stopped.

“I ignore it for now. This way.” he pulled him to an ally. 

“Window?”

“Window indeed.” Mycroft climbed to the garbage can breaking in a window.

“Was that necessary?” Greg followed him.

“Maybe.” he shrugged climbing in. “Be careful with the shards.”

“You don’t say.” Greg rolled his eyes. “What the hell!” he yelled when landing on the floor. “Mycroft!” 

“He tried to stab me!” the young man was gripping his hand Mycroft just stabbed through with the sword.

“Shit; Mycroft…” Greg reached for him but he stepped closer to the young man, stepping on his injured hand. “Where is Josh.”

“Who?” he whined.

“Where is Josh! Don’t make me repeat it.” he used more force.

“Okay okay…” he yelled. “Jesus!”

“Where is he?” Mycroft hissed.

“Not here, ain’t he? Not here. He left…”

“Sherlock, do you know where he is?”

“Who?”

“Bloody drug den.” Mycroft stepped away from him. “Stoned and useless.” he walked around the dirty rooms looking for Sherlock.

“Mycroft we need to talk.” Greg stopped him.

“What about?”

“What you just did.”

“Means for an end.”

“Okay but we don’t just start murdering people…”

“He is alive.”

“True.”

“Stop complaining and help me!” he handed him the photo.

“He is even more hot when ordering me around,” he whispered. “I’m going.” he saluted when Mycroft glared at him. “I’m lost…” he mumbled to himself. “He could make me do anything...with a word…” he fell over a body. “Damnation.” he rubbed his wrist, quickly picking up his gun. 

“Hmmmm.” the young boy turned to his back.

“Sherlock.” he sighed. “Thank the lords!” he pulled him up calling for Mycroft.

“Let me go.” Sherlock grunted.

“No, no. I had enough of being out for tonight.”

“You’ve found him? Thank you…” Mycroft sighed, he quickly went through Sherlock’s pockets.

“What are you looking for?”

“A list.”

“Making a list, checking it twice…” Greg hummed.

“Stop joking around.”

“How else you expect me to stay sane?”

“There is supposed to be a list, what he took.” he pulled Sherlock’s head up by his hair, he only laughed at his older brother. “You promised Sherlock.” he just shrugged. “We agreed on something.”

“Let’s just go, save the lecture for later.” he stepped away from Greg, walking down the stairs.

“Wait, Sherlock don’t just walk away!” Mycroft hurried after him, catching up with his brother out on the streets. Thankfully no one was around.

“I don’t need you to save me!” Sherlock turned back yelling at his brother.

“Apparently yes.” Greg grabbed him pulling him away from the young man trying to attack them with a brick. Mycroft acted quickly, knocking him unconscious with the umbrella.

“Gorgeous.” Greg whispered.

“Show off.” Sherlock grunted trying to get out of his arms.

“Come, we need to get off the streets.”

“I will not obey my brother’s pet.”

“Detective Sergeant to you lad.”

“Whatever.”

“You will do as I say Sherlock.” Mycroft took his other arm.

“You only care about me because you are scared of mother!” he sniffled.

“You know that is not true.” Mycroft whispered.

“You say that now but you left me behind. You left me!”

“I had to.”

“No!” he yelled. “There was no need for it!” he tore himself from their grip.

“All right, enough of this.” Mycroft delivered a well calculated blow on the ear with the umbrella, then stuck a needle to the shoulder of the disoriented Sherlock. “There.”

“What was that!” Sherlock rubbed his ear.

“It would have been easier if you’d come quietly.”

“Mycroft…he is…” Greg caught the falling body of the younger Holmes.

“He will sleep now.”

“And you will carry him?”

“Yes.” Mycroft tried to pick him up, falling to the ground himself.

“You thought you could carry him and fight your way home?”

“Yes.”

“Hilarious. If we survive, you and I, date.”

“Deal.” Mycroft got up.

“Now, let me get him and you take this.” he handed him the gun. “Point and pull the trigger.”

“I know how it works.”

“You were the one complaining of my gun.” he grunted throwing the limp body of Sherlock over his shoulder. “Let’s get off the streets. Doctor Watson lives close by, hopefully he’ll let us stay over. Also he can check your wound.”

“It is doing fine.”

“Nevertheless.”

“You trust him? This doctor?”

“I do.”

“I don’t.”

“No surprise.” he sighed. “Let’s go then.”

“What about him?” he pointed at the body of the dealer.

“Leave it.” he shrugged.

“Leave him? He could get killed!”

“And? He is selling drugs to kids.”

“Still…”

“This one is on me, come on.” Mycroft reluctantly followed Greg.

***

“I hate this.” Greg grunted. “I’m so fed up with this night!” they were hiding in a garbage can. “Why does it has to smell so bad!”

“Stay quiet!” Mycroft hissed. 

“I want to throw up.”

“Don’t, please.” he rubbed his eyes.

“When can we…” the lid opened and Mycroft fired without a second thought. “The hell!” Greg rubbed his ears. “Little warning.”

“How could I…” Mycroft yelled back, his ears were ringing. 

“I hate this!” he grunted. Mycroft stood up checking if the coast was clear. “Now!” Greg stood up hitting his head on the lid. 

“I hate this!” he yelled. Mycroft grabbed his brother pushing him out of the garbage can.

“I can do the same to you or you climb out on your own.”

“I’m coming.” he sighed. “I take him.” he sighed. “You lead.”

“We are really close by now.” Mycroft peaked out of the corner. “Front door is too busy, is there a side door?”

“I’m sure there is a back door...through the garden.”

“Then we take a detour.”

“No, no way.”

“This way.” Mycroft ignored him.

“I hate you!” Greg grunted, praying that they won’t have more adventures tonight.

Mycroft was the last to land in the garden, suppressing a scream.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Mycroft limped to the door starting to work on the lock. 

“If you are just a lawyer…”

“I’m not only a lawyer.” finally the lock gave away. 

“No?” Greg dropped Sherlock once they were inside resting on the stairs.

“Some days, well most days I’m MI6.”

“You are kidding.”

“No. Which way now?”

“Up.” Greg took a deep breath and picked Sherlock up again. “Up we go.”

“I hear voices.” Mycroft stopped him with his arms.

“Yes, he offers medical help during the purge. Everyone knows that so his building is left alone.”

“But that is illegal!”

“And? Are there any laws tonight?

“Yes! One of them is; not helping! No hospitals!”

“Then report it to the police. Oh wait we don't exist tonight either.”

“I...whatever.” he hid the gun under his coat, not letting go of the trigger. “Carefully.”

“I know.” Greg rolled his eyes, they made their way up the stairs, Mycroft eyed everyone with concern, but they made it to the flat without any trouble.

“Hello John.” Greg greeted the boy by the door.

“What happened to Sherlock?” he asked instead of greeting them. 

“Me.” Mycroft narrowed his eyes, looking the boy up and down. 

“Who is the posh bastard?” he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Sherlock’s brother.”

“No way.” he snorted.

“I assume he did not tell you his background.”

“I suggest we go inside, yeah? He is pretty heavy.” Greg stepped in.

“Sherlock is perfect, he ain’t fat, unlike his brother!” John hissed.

“All right kitten.” Greg rolled his eyes. “You carry him then.” he put Sherlock down in the hall. “Hey Doc!”

“Lestrade, couldn’t stay home?”

“You know me...” he smiled.

“The hero complex, I know.”

“Brought you a patient.”

“Let me see. Hop on the table boy.” he patted the kitchen table.

“I…”

“Mycroft, sit.” Greg ordered him.

“I sit.” he whispered.

“Guns out on the table.” Mycroft handed the guns and the umbrella over to Greg. “Thank you, now let me see.”

“Gregory took care of it.”

“I wouldn’t say pouring vodka on it is sufficient enough.”

“Better than nothing.”

“I’m fine, just tired.” Mycroft whispered.

“Mostly from the bloodloss.”

“Not all mine.” he laid down on the table.

“Still…”

“Shut up and do as I say.”

“Yes Sir.” he whispered.

  
  


“Morning.”

“Is it?” Mycroft looked around.

“It is.” Mycroft just realised that he was laying in Greg’s arms, his head resting on his chest.

“Meaning it is over?”

“In a few minutes, yes.”

“Finally.” he sighed.

“Slept well?”

“I did sleep.” he mumbled. “Thank you.” 

“Sure thing.”

“Sherlock?”

“Up and grumpy, they are planning revenge on you...with John.”

“I had to leave for uni. I can’t stay home all my life…”

“I’m sure deep down he knows.”

“After the fire...house fire...he became really attached to me. We were inseparable, it was cute and annoying at the same time. It all changed since I moved away.”

“He will come to his senses.”

“I really hope so...I’m worried for him.”

“Of course you are.” Greg stroked his hair. "Next year…"

"Please don't talk about next year when this isn't even over yet!"

"I just wanted to say it'll be different."

"You won't run out to save someone?"

"Well...I'll try, that much I can promise."

"I have to take that; I suppose."

"And you? Will you be out looking for your brother?"

"No because I'll tie him to a chair in the basement and sedate him…all doing so days before so he will not have any chance of being out."

"You scare me My."

“I’ll do the same to you if needed.”

“Thanks.” he mumbled. “I prefer being awake while tied up however.” he smirked making Mycroft turn really red.

Suddenly sirens went off signaling the end of the Purge. Mycroft sighed deeply, relaxing in Greg’s arms.

“Finally.” Greg mumbled. “Hey, you okay?” Mycroft was shaking in his arms. “My?” he stroked his hair trying to calm the sobbing Mycroft. “It’s okay, it is over now.” he murmured to his ears. The stress of the night finally washed over Mycroft.

“Crying Fatcroft?”

“Let him be Sherlock.” Greg whispered.

“Why? He drugged me!”

“He saved you.”

“I did not need saving.”

“No.” he mumbled. “Why not stay with John then?”

“Because he had no idea what day it was.” Mycroft sniffled wiping down his tears with his sleeve. 

“I did.”

“No, you did not. You don’t pay attention to the details.”

“Me?” he snorted. “Details are important, what day it is? Not at all.”

“It can be the difference between life and death.”

“Any time we meet, there is a lecture. Nothing else but lectures from you!”

“I…”

“Stop the bickering boys, I want to rest.” Dr. Watson walked past the living room. “I do not want to hear a squeak, understood?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Ambulance will be here shortly, that boy looks paler with the second. Night!”

“Thank you Dr. Watson.” Greg mumbled. 

“Yes, yes.” he yawned. “Later.”

“You have your phone Gregory?”

“Yes.”

“May I?” 

“Pocket.” Greg yawned not wanting to let go of him. Mycroft reached for it.

“I need to speak to Antarctica...yes, yes...this is…” he cleared his throat. “It is Fox cub…” he whispered. “Thank you.” he glanced at Greg.

“Adorable.” Greg whispered making Mycroft blush again. “The Doc is right, you are really pale.” he looked at him with worry.

“It is me, yes!” Mycroft sat up. “Yes...hope so...No they are on the way already...See you then.”

“What was that my little fox?” Greg chuckled.

“Nothing.” he dropped the phone. 

“All righty.”

“I’m cold and tired.” he whispered.

“And fat and ugly and a virgin.” Sherlock scoffed.

“Thank you brother mine.” Mycroft mumbled too tired to be annoyed about it.

“And you are a brat Sherlock.” Greg held Mycroft more tightly. “Hello?” the front door opened.

“No worries Gregory.” Mycroft whispered.

“Who is it?” two man in black suits stepped to the flat.

“You bastard.” Sherlock hissed. “You called Uncle Rudy.”

“Someone has to take you home.”

“I ain’t going with them.” the two men grabbed Sherlock’s arms without a word, they nodded towards Mycroft and dragged the yelling younger Holmes away.

“That was...well okay…” Greg mumbled. “They got here quickly.”

“I can’t take him home in this state.”

“That is true.”

“I can pay you, for your services tonight Gregory. Or get you a promotion or anything you desire.”

“We already agreed on the price of my assistance.”

“Really?”

“A date.”

“You don’t have to...why would you?”

“Why would I want to go out with a gorgeous clever hot as hell mysterious spy?”

“I’m none of those. Boring, ugly, fat…”

“Hush, your brother got into your head.”

“He is right though.”

“He feeds on your insecurities.”

“He does it well then.”

“Yeah, little bastard knows psychology better than the days of the week.” Mycroft huffed. “I know you love him no matter what.” 

“Yeah.”

“Now, this is my number.” Greg took Mycroft’s arm and wrote them on it. “Call me when you have the time.”

“Where are you going?” Mycroft looked at him betrayed.

“To bring home my brothers. I’m all they have.” he whispered.

“And you risked your life, because of me.”

“What shall I say, you made a good argument.”

“I...it could have…” tears welled in Mycroft’s eyes.

“Hey, hey…” Greg kissed him. “Everything is fine.”

“But so much could go wrong.” he whispered suppressing a sob.

“Nothing did, you protected me.”

“But, but…”

“It’s fine.” he smiled. “They are here.”

“Who?”

“Ambulance.”

“Oh…”

“I’ll come and see you later today, okay?”

“Okay.” he whispered sinking to his arms. “I’ll be waiting for you...my prince who is scared of heights and allergic to horses.”

“How you know?”

“I just...know.” Mycroft whispered.

***

“Again?”

“Yes, again!” the twins exclaimed. Mycroft sighed tucking them in.

“Hot cocoa.” Greg put down the tray. 

“Everything secure?”

“Security systems up, personnel safe inside, every door and window bolted.”

“Sherlock?”

“Grumpy and about to blow up something in the kitchen.”

“Good.” he sighed.

“It’ll be fine love.” Greg sat next to him. “What story will your dad tell us tonight?”

“How we met.” Mycroft sighed. “Again.”

“That is a lovely classic.” Greg wrapped an arm around him.


End file.
